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Best Days Of Our Lives	By : classic06 Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Kelly Clarkson Views: 14130 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know Kelly Clarkson. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Kelly frowned as she looked in the mirror. A day long shift at the zoo definitely wasn't her best look...or smell. She couldn't help but laugh, thinking of the first impression she probably made on Carrie's mom who looked like something straight out of a 70's homestyle magazine. The June Cleaver reference she had made earlier was nearly dead on, except for the age difference. Kelly sniffed. Yea, she would definitely have to ask Carrie to let her use her shower.
She washed her hands in the sink, drying them on the towel that was hanging next to it. She exited the bathroom, nearly running straight into something. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry."
"It's ok," came the reply.
Kelly looked to find who had to be Carrie's dad smiling up at her from his wheelchair. Despite his tired eyes, he had a warm smile. "You must be Carrie's dad."
"And you must be Kelly," he nodded, holding out his hand.
Kelly shook it, loving the roughness of it. It reminded her of Jimmy's. "Yea, how'd you know?"
"Carrie's been talking about you nonstop," he shrugged. "It nice to finally meet you."
"You too, Mr. Underwood."
"So, I take it they're in the kitchen?"
"Yea," Kelly laughed.
"Can't get my wife out of there. I swear I've gained fifteen pounds since we moved here."
Kelly giggled as she followed him into the kitchen.
"Stephen, there you are," Carole smiled warmly at her husband.
Kelly watched curiously as she leaned down to kiss him. Something just seemed off about the whole thing. She looked up to find Carrie starting in on a plate of brownies.
"No fair," Kelly fussed.
"What can I say?" Carrie smiled as Kelly sat next to her. "I'm the favorite."
"Whatever, that's just cause your mom doesn't know me. But once she does, you'd better watch your back, there's just no stopping me."
"Yea," Carrie nodded, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "Hey, you want to bring these up to my room?"
"Sure," Kelly shrugged, picking up her bag that she had dropped upon entering and the two glasses of milk as Carrie grabbed the plate of brownies.
"Mom, we're going upstairs," Carrie informed.
"You sure?"
"Yes, mom."
"Alright, I'll come check on you two later."
Carrie sighed as she guided Kelly to the staircase, leading her upstairs.
"This is your room?" Kelly asked, wide-eyed.
"It's actually a loft," Carrie shrugged. "The people that used to live here rented it out."
"I think it's bigger than my apartment. Remind me why we've been cramped in my room for like two months now."
"Stop," Carrie laughed. "It's not that big."
"You have a shower up here?"
"Yea, why?"
"Can I use it? I think the smell of monkey crap is embedded into my skin."
"Well, I wasn't going to say anything..."
"Shut up," Kelly laughed.
"But yea, it's right through that door."
"Thanks," Kelly replied, putting down the two glasses of milk and walking to the bathroom.
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Kelly looked around the empty loft as she walked out of the bathroom, "Carrie?"
"Hey," a voice replied from behind her.
"Shit," Kelly jumped.
"Sorry," Carrie grinned.
"What's with the need to give me a heartattack?"
"I went take a shower downstairs," Carrie explained.
"Well, you could've used yours; I would've gone downstairs."
"I don't think my mom would be too fond of you making her bathroom smell like monkey poo."
"Whatever," Kelly rolled her eyes. "I'm totally clean now."
"Sure..."
"Go on, smell me," she replied, holding out her arms, and tilting her head back.
Carrie raised an eyebrow.
"Come on, you know you want to."
Carrie laughed as she leaned forward, tilting her head towards her neck, her nose brushing against her skin slightly, causing the Texan to stiffen. "Um, yea, you smell really good actually," Carrie replied, pulling away quickly.
"I know," Kelly smiled, shaking off the sudden nerves. "So, I see you drank all the milk," she nodded towards the empty coffee table in front of the small couch that she had left the glasses on.
"No, I just put them in the mini fridge," Carrie replied, walking to the small fridge that was in the corner on a stand. She opened it, reaching in, and pulled out the two glasses. "I didn't want them to get warm."
"You seriously have like your own place up here, you know that?"
"It's nice to escape to," Carrie nodded, handing her the glass.
"Shoot, I wish I had a place like this where I live. At night, no matter what room you're in, you can hear Jimmy's snoring. I mean, I love the guy, but a girl needs her rest, you know?"
Carrie smirked, "You? Rest? Do you even know the meaning of that word?"
"Look who's talking Miss B+ in Chemistry."
"Oh, I am so never tutoring you again," Carrie shook her head, laughing.
"Yea you will. Otherwise I'd have to resort to sleeping with the teacher, and I'd rather my first time not be with some guy who shouts out the periodic table while climaxing. Call me crazy, but that's just my personal taste."
Carrie was red with laughter as she collapsed on the sofa.
Kelly smiled, sitting next to her, "I like you. You totally boost my ego."
"You're crazy."
"Yea, but it's the sane ones you gotta worry about."
"How so?"
"With me, you know what to expect."
"Um, no, I don't."
"Exactly, you know to expect to not to expect."
Carrie looked at her confusedly.
"But with the sane ones, when they do something crazy, it completely catches you off guard, because you were expecting to expect them to act a certain way, but they end up going against you're expectations."
Carrie looked at her completely lost.
"That made total sense in my head," Kelly explained. "Not so much when it came out."
"Have a brownie," Carrie offered her the plate.
"You're my hero," Kelly smiled, picking one up.
"And you're welcome here anytime you know."
"Hm?" Kelly asked, swallowing a bite of brownie.
"If you ever need a quiet place, you're always welcome here if I'm here."
"Thanks," Kelly nodded.
"So what do you think of the parentals?"
"They seem nice. Your dad's pretty funny."
"You weren't freaked?"
"Nah," Kelly shook her head.
"Good," Carrie nodded. "Because even though I told you what to expect, I was still a little worried..."
"There you go expecting things again."
Carrie giggled, "You'd think I'd learn my lesson by now."
"You're a stubborn one, I swear."
"Stubborn? Look who's talking."
"I am not stubborn. In fact, I am the definition of anti-stubborn."
Carrie raised an eyebrow.
"Ok, maybe I'm a little stubborn."
"Sweetie, you're the poster child for stubborn. If stubborn had a company, they'd totally pick you to endorse them."
Kelly shook her head, "I love how you think you're funny."
"I am funny."
"You're about as funny as I am not stubborn."
"Hey," Carrie protested. "I totally make you laugh."
"That doesn't mean your funny. That means you amuse me."
"Same difference."
"Not really."
"Maybe I'll become a stand-up comic, you never know."
"Just don't quit your day job."
"And what's that?" Carrie asked.
"Singing."
Carrie looked at her carefully, "You really think I could sing professionally."
"Definitely," Kelly nodded, taking another bite of brownie.
"Thanks."
Kelly shrugged, "It's not that hard of a thing to see. You sing better than most of the people out there, and you definitely have the look."
"The look?"
"You know, the total down home gorgeous blonde thing that country music loves."
"Gorgeous?"
"Yea, kind of like that whole Faith Hill thing. You do want to go the country route, right?"
"Yea, how'd you know?"
"The twang."
"Leave my twang alone."
"It's cute," Kelly teased.
"Look who's talking. It doesn't get much twangier than you."
"Not when I'm singing."
"I've only heard you sing once," Carrie shrugged.
"Oh well."
"Have I mentioned that I love that song by the way?"
"Only several times a week," Kelly laughed.
"Well, maybe if you'd sing it again."
"Nope, no can do, sorry."
"What about something else you've written. Have you written a lot?"
Kelly shrugged.
"Well don't you want the world to hear them someday, and I mean, you want to know if they suck before hand or not, right? Well, I'm totally an unbiased critic."
Kelly gave a soft laugh, "It's not that easy, you know."
"Of course it is. I'm assuming you have these recorded on a tape recorder. All you have to do is press play."
"Do you have a diary?"
Carrie scrunched up her nose.
"What?"
"You make it sound so immature."
"Fine," Kelly sighed. "Do you have a journal?"
"Yea."
"Can I read it?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because it's personal."
"And my journal isn't?"
Carrie nodded, "Fair enough."
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